


Apocalypse

by GealachGirl



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Apocalypse, Bitterness, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Near Death, Pining, Survival, at least Ray's got his sense of humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-18 22:02:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16127630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GealachGirl/pseuds/GealachGirl
Summary: What happens when it really is Ray and Brad against the world?And where the fuck is the emergency response?





	Apocalypse

**Author's Note:**

> This is late because I couldn't get it done in time, but this is the bingo fic I worked the longest on and poured the most into. I guess thank politics for how prolonged the bullshit is?

“Ray!” Brad’s voice echoed, but closely because of the smoke and dust. Ray coughed and stuck his arm up, waving it out of relief and excess adrenaline.

“Here,” he croaked and coughed again. The goddamn dust. He hoped there wasn’t asbestos. Because that would be the goddamn icing on the end-of-the-world cake.

Brad emerged through the dust. His temple was bleeding, but it didn’t look like a big deal. Ray struggled to his knees, and Brad reached down to help him.

“Thank fucking Christ, homes,” he said, ducking his head to cough as Brad straightened and looked around. For what, Ray didn’t know. Other survivors?

They’d made it to shelter just in time, and now everything had changed.

Sirens rose in the distance and Ray actually laughed out loud. “What the fuck do they think they’re going to do?” he asked. The city had been bombed.

“Ray, shut up,” Brad said. His voice was low and intense, and he’d crossed the space they were in to lean out through what used to be a doorway. Ray only went quiet because he was interested in what Brad thought he was doing.

The world went eerily silent as the sirens faded and Brad didn’t say anything. Eventually Ray was sick of it, and he joined him.

And maybe Brad had been waiting for that because he said, “We need to get out of the city.” His eyes were on the clouds above, and there was a tightness to his mouth that usually meant he was making a plan he didn’t like.

Then Ray heard a high-pitched whistling sound and they grabbed each other and hit the floor together. Because he was bigger, Brad dragged Ray with him as he put space between them and the opening.

With his head buried under his arms and tucked into Brad, Ray still felt his ears pop painfully as the next bomb hit. The world went white again, and he felt Brad tighten his arm around his shoulders.   

He thought Brad had never been more right in his life.

 

They got to it as soon as the coast was clear, but they didn’t make it far before they found the fires.

He swore as another building went up. All of them in a flash.

“You know, maybe nukes weren’t the best idea,” he said. Because it was inappropriate and unhelpful and maybe distracting.

Brad didn’t react.

“I’m just saying homes, maybe the whole ‘armed-to-the-teeth’ and ‘one man with the authority to press the button’ was an oversight.”

Maybe a tightening of his jaw.

So, Ray dropped it. He knew he could’ve pressed, but it wasn’t fun when Brad only paid half-attention to him.

A football field away, a building gave up and crumbled in on itself. They didn’t jump, but they did stiffen and Brad shifted closer.

“Jesus Christ,” Brad breathed as they watched the dust cloud.

“But you know,” Ray said, picking up where he’d left off. “American exceptionalism and all that. We’re the best so we should have absolute authority over whether the Earth gets nuked.

“We were practically begging someone to beat us to it.”

“Don’t,” Brad ground out.

Ray looked over to see Brad glaring and he just shook his head, bottling it back up.

 

Brad was more silent than usual, deep in warrior mode as he worked on getting them through the city alive. He was in charge of navigating because of his warrior thing and his unerring sense of direction. He also had the better decision-making skills when fire was falling from the sky. You’d almost think he didn’t see it.

Meanwhile, Ray was in charge of information. He was currently working on a busted-up radio they’d found, trying to get any news about the country’s response to the missile strikes on southern California.

Brad’s phone still worked because of the power of his nerdiness and some wizardry on Ray’s part, so at least they knew the U.S. was planning a counterattack with the military that remained on the East Coast. But they didn’t want to waste the battery, and if Ray could get a radio working it would be another way to get information.

All they knew now was that Article Five had been invoked again, and the only thing keeping Ray from laughing his ass off was that the United States wasn’t the only one this time.

Brad’s face got darker. He was always the one with a mind for strategy and global politics, so Ray took it as a bad sign and worked harder on the radio.

 

Of course, the bombs were falling in the middle of a drought and of course the burning city turned into burning forests. They were still in the city, miles away from the trees, but that didn’t seem to matter. The smoke flew into the air and choked out what was left of the oxygen. Maybe for the whole state.

A few blocks to their left, another building dropped, collapsing smoothly in on itself in a shower of dust and debris.

“Jesus Christ, homes,” Ray said for what felt like the thousandth time, and he hoped Brad didn’t hear how his voice frayed around the edges. It had been days and it seemed like all he did was watch civilization crumble around him and dodge it as it fell.

For once Brad looked at him, and he frowned at what he saw. Because of course he heard it.

The bombs were still falling, and if Ray’s count was right that made five days. Five days of smoke, and grabbing each other when the sky screamed, and taking cover. It was constant. And they didn’t get breaks to hang around and laugh or tell stupid jokes or bitch about the people in charge.

As soon as the coast cleared, they moved on again. Because they were Marines, goddammit, if those even existed anymore. Who the fuck knew what was going on outside of this fucked city?

Ray had expected Brad to chafe at missing out on the excitement on the East Coast and not being able to do his Marine thing, but so far he didn’t seem to notice.

“I mean really,” Ray continued his running commentary. His voice was still scratched, probably from the smoke, but the silence—he had to do something about the silence. “California is burning and where is the rest of the country? The National fucking Guard? When are they going to send emergency relief? Or medical aid?”

The whole fucking state could be dying. And what happened to society?

“And it’s not like we have any idea which part of California isn’t on fire, and we can’t exactly get anywhere quickly. We’re not even out of the fucking city yet.”

Ray would have gone on, but Brad was looking intently at him the way he usually looked at the buildings around them on any given day, or the sky after another bomb strike, like he was weighing his options.

And Ray felt a rush of fire surge through him.

“Then you’re over here doing your best goddamn statue impression, like you can ignore all of this bullshit and just plow through it.” Brad looked suddenly less amused.

“Dude, give it a rest, it’s not like you have anything to sign your life over to anymore. There’s no way in hell things are going back to the way they were before all this shit,” Ray ranted. “You can’t go running back to the Corps. You probably can’t even leave this side of the goddamn country.”

“Ray.” Ray ignored that first sign of life he’d gotten in days.

“Because God fucking forbid we have a response ready for a goddamn emergency for once. The common sense would probably kill all of those asshats in Congress. They have all kinds of resources to wage war on everyone, but they can’t spare any to save actual citizens.” Ray was well aware that a higher body count was a better reason to go all out on a war.

California was a significant portion of the population and if they all went up in flames and ashes, they would be the perfect argument for a policy of revenge. Besides, they were all liberals anyway.

Ray was on a roll now and he could _feel_ the anger building. And Brad kept looking at him with that blank look on his face. He had more in him too, about the military and the stars and stripes and what good all of that was doing them out here, but Brad interrupted him, and the anger evaporated like all of their drinking water.

Brad didn’t use words, but full-on touch. With his arms wrapped around Ray’s shoulders, Brad’s whole body covered him, and Ray fit neatly in the space under his chin. And every part of him reacted like he hadn’t been touched in his whole life.

“Shut up,” Brad said into his hair. “For three goddamn seconds.” But his voice wasn’t really annoyed, it sounded more like desperation and relief because he must have felt how all of the tension had rushed out of Ray.

“Then new rule,” he replied into Brad’s chest. “You have to keep up some of the conversation.”

He felt Brad’s tiny, inaudible, but very real laugh through his whole body too.  

 

It was such a huge, unexpected relief to hear Brad’s voice again.

He’d never been talkative, but, as per the new rules, he was picking up the habit. Their talks weren’t very hopeful, or long, but Brad did tell Ray some of what he was thinking now.

Ray didn’t think it was all fixed, though.

Overhead, bombs kept falling, but they were more random and there was more time between them than before.

After the hug, Brad was hesitant to touch him, but that disappeared when the air went quiet and still right before the whistles, which was right before impacts. And, as fucked up as it was, Ray was learning to enjoy the moments when they had to dive for cover and crash into each other to do it.

He was increasingly thankful they were together, too. The radio finally worked most of the time, and each time they heard about another part of the country going dark, their eyes were pulled to each other and they shared the burden. There was still no word about emergency relief.

But at least Brad responded when Ray cracked a joke, and sometimes he pulled out the bitter sarcasm that Ray had always seen as the best sign that he was human. It all made him think maybe they could survive the apocalypse.

 

It was dark, though “dark” was rare anymore with all the fires. And everything was still.

There was no wind to blow smoke and heat their way, they were away enough from the burning buildings not to be in danger, and the sky was still clear so far.

In fact, everything was silent, and Ray wondered if maybe the bombing had stopped. It had to stop eventually, right? And the silence between him and Brad wasn’t loaded and one-sided anymore. They were just alone together.

So, Ray took the opportunity to watch his companion at the end of the world. He’d started talking for Ray, and he’d never pretended to be annoyed to have him around. Instead, all the pretense had been stripped away, and they just relied on each other without having to act like they didn’t need to.

It felt like Iraq, only it really was them against the world this time.

More than one thing about Iraq had come back, too. Ray watched Brad and he _wanted_.

To have permission and reason for casual contact, to be allowed less-casual contact, to be honest, to kiss him. And even if he knew Brad better than anyone, and probably had the most access to the way Brad thought and felt, Ray wanted that connection confirmed and acknowledged.

It had always been a long shot, though, and he couldn’t imagine it being any closer now during the apocalypse.  

He looked away. It was the fucking apocalypse and there was work to do. Brad was taking inventory and checking his map, Ray was listening to headlines on the radio.

“Any idea for where we’re going next homes?” he asked, raising his voice so it carried over the distant roar of flames and the short distance between them. He felt on edge, and he wasn’t sure if it was his paranoia that Brad could tell what he’d been thinking or something else.

Because now, not having things actively trying to kill them was abnormal.

Brad shifted a shoulder and glanced at Ray before he returned his eyes to the map. “Not yet,” he said, sounding distracted. “Have you seen any street signs? I think we got turned around after the last collapse.”

It had been a big building, and close. They’d had to take shelter and when they’d come back up the street had looked drastically different, especially since the other buildings had taken some damage as well. Ray didn’t remember any street signs.

“We could just walk until we get to the ocean,” he suggested. “We have to hit the ocean eventually.”

Brad looked at him but didn’t say anything. He just looked at his map again.

Then movement caught Ray’s eye and his head whipped in that direction. The fire, and the quiet whooshing sound of its spreading had billowed into the end of the block.

Ray stopped thinking.

It was a bit like that time they were all trapped on a bridge and he decided to get out to direct traffic. But this time, he yelled Brad’s name and tackled him out of the street and into an alley. Brad, the motherfucker who was built for situations like this, saw the threat right away, pulled them to their feet, and they started running out of the fire’s path.

And then wind picked up, which was both good and bad, and Ray steered them in another direction.

They didn’t stop until they were surrounded by dark concrete, and the fire was a red glow that wasn’t breathing down their necks—dozens of blocks away from where they’d been. They were panting and staggering and still holding onto each other, and then Ray dropped to his knees, bringing Brad down with him.

His heart was pounding in his chest, and he clung to the most permanent thing he had. Brad hung on, too, and seemed keen on staying as close as he could. And at the moment Ray felt like he and Brad were possibly fire-proof because they were somehow both still alive.

Before he could stop himself, he started laughing. It was quiet, but erratic and Ray thought Brad probably wouldn’t understand, until he felt his whole body shaking and realized Brad must actually feel things like adrenaline, too, and sometimes even his high-tuned body made too much.

“Oh my God, homes,” Ray said after a while. His voice still shook with the shock and the leftover laughter. “Oh my God we almost died. That was a fucking fire and it almost got us this time.”

Brad just nodded, looking at nothing with his arms still hooked around Ray, his fingers digging into Ray’s shirt.   

Streetlights changed around the abandoned intersection they’d ended up in, and Ray watched the red light reflected on Brad’s face turn to green.

The streets were empty and everything in the world was quiet again, like they were the only two people left. And all of the adrenaline leaked gradually out of Ray’s body until he finally felt calmed down.

“Let’s rest here, tonight,” Brad suggested quietly. Ray couldn’t have been happier to agree.

 

The next day was a little clearer. Somewhere, the sun was making an effort to break through the lingering smoke, but it didn’t make much difference. Everything still looked like an apocalyptic hellscape.

“I’m taking us toward one of the military bases,” Brad said, pulling himself up to sit and unhooking his arm from Ray’s shoulders. “That’s what I’ve been working on.”

Ray sat up too, brushing drywall out of his hair while he thought it over. “Military bases might have people. And if not, there will probably be supplies somewhere, maybe water, exploded food,” he replied, nodding slowly. “That can’t be too bad. As long as it’s not peanut butter.”

Brad’s snort of laughter took them both by surprise, but it had the same effect on both. They exhaled together, letting the air out like a sigh and a laugh, and Ray felt a little better.

Last night, they’d stayed close and in contact, and Ray was trying not to think about it too much but he knew it wasn’t working. There was just something about how he’d gotten what he wanted and it felt exactly the way he’d hoped.

He planted his hand on the ground and pushed himself to his feet. He looked down at Brad and said, “Come on, then, homes. Let’s get back on the road again.”

Brad squinted as he looked up at him and there was a hint of a smile on his face, and Ray felt his chest twist as he offered a hand to help pull Brad from the ground.

When he was standing, Ray saw the grin.

He frowned. “I’m glad someone’s excited.”

Miraculously the grin widened, and Brad turned his face toward the route Ray knew he’d mapped in his head. “Shut up Ray.”

Ray wasn’t sure how exactly to take that, but he clung to this piece of hope and the lightness of Brad’s shoulders.

“Lead the way then, Colbert.”

 

Like last time, with the full-body hug, Brad kept a noticeable space between the two of them. And Ray decided he wasn’t putting up with it this time.

But he had to choose his moment. Or make his own.

First, a prod into the real world. Ray looked at Brad and saw the thoughts and plans and anger whirring in his busy head. It was a wonder he could think through all that noise, but it was where Brad spent his time when Ray wasn’t poking his head around the corner.

“So, I was thinking, and you know, we’re really nailing this apocalypse thing,” he said.

Brad looked at him. “Is the lack of oxygen finally getting to you?” he asked. “Or have you stopped noticing we don’t have food, water, a map or a radio anymore?”

Ray rolled his eyes. “Please. We don’t need that shit when it’s the two of us vs. the rest of the world.”

Brad’s response was less than what he hoped for, just a raised eyebrow, and Ray sped up so he could swing around and face him directly.

“I’m not kidding,” he said, dropping his voice into a serious tone. And Christ, this conversation was turning more serious—and emotional—than he’d planned. But sometimes that’s how you had to do it with someone as oblivious as Brad.

“And you can’t change anything by pulling away from the shit around us.” Ray hated the emotion in his voice, but Brad’s reaction made him think it was worth it.

Brad stopped walking and he looked at Ray for so long that Ray considered offering the next piece of his mind. Then Brad finally said, “Why do you think I do it?” His face hadn’t changed and Ray paused.

Clearly, Brad was taking this just as seriously.

So, Ray had to think about that. Dozens of answers flooded to his mind, but most of them were just half-assed jokes. Why did he think Brad Colbert did any of the things he did?

It didn’t take him long to realize the question was Brad’s answer, and the past few weeks restructured themselves in Ray’s head.

They were on the same page, and had been all along. Every time Ray watched Brad, Brad was watching him too. Ray hated being stuck in his own head, but that was where Brad did his best work. And they were alive, in part, because of it.

Brad was watching him closely for his reaction, and Ray was careful to make it exactly what he meant.

“We make a fucking fantastic team, Bradley.” The feeling in his chest wasn’t anger, and it wasn’t directed toward Brad in particular, but it was close to both and he felt it solidify into something like conviction.

He moved closer to Brad. He’d found a moment.

“We don’t have anything but each other anymore, and I’ll be damned if you get taken away, too. I don’t know what the fuck you’re holding onto, but everything’s different now.” He swallowed and glanced away before he met Brad’s eyes again. “And DADT doesn’t exist anymore either.”

Brad hadn’t moved, so he was still watching Ray intently and they were so close Ray could feel the way his breath shuddered. He looked like he’d been caught at something and he was making sure he wasn’t misreading the situation.

“Now?” Brad asked quietly and he didn’t need to look at the piles of rubble that had once been buildings or the thick smoke in the air to make his point clear. There was a spark in his eyes though, and Ray didn’t think it would be there if he disagreed.

For some reason, Ray smiled and it all felt real. He was in uncharted territory but he didn’t feel lost. “No time like the present, homes.”

Brad closed his eyes and took a deep breath, probably to forget Ray had said that, and nodded. And when his eyes opened, Ray felt a thrill down his spine at the focused, intense look in Brad’s eyes. It drifted over his face before refocusing above Ray’s head.

“Survival first,” he said, looking down the street.

And Ray guessed he could live with that.

 

It had been uncomfortable, but talking about his feelings had accomplished something, and Ray wasn’t sure if he could use this power for anything else or if he even should.

He’d managed to close all of the distance and there was a new determination to the way they made their way through the wasteland of a city. Ray could feel the fire beating at their backs and he could barely breathe, but he and Brad were back in action like they’d been after the first bomb dropped.

Only this time, they had a goal.

 

Hours and miles later, Ray paused.

“Brad, hey, I recognize this street.” he said. One of the buildings looked familiar and it came to him all of a sudden.

Brad stopped in his tracks and directed every bit of his attention toward Ray. There was a painfully familiar look on his face and Ray was offended.

“Fuck off, I wouldn’t joke about this. Not now,” he protested.

Brad didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press the issue. “Lead the way then,” he said, gesturing vaguely in front of them. “I trust your navigation.”

Ray bit down on the smile that immediately rose to his face, partly because it was self-satisfied, but he did bask a little. Brad wasn’t great friends with trust, so Ray knew it was serious when Brad admitted it out loud.

“Then to our closest hope for civilization we go,” he said.

There was a look on Brad’s face Ray couldn’t decipher, and that was new, but it dissolved quickly into his normal, stoic mask. So Ray didn’t think anything more of it.

It only took a couple more hours to arrive at the gates.

They were unlocked and no one was at the guard-post, but Ray couldn’t fault anyone for that. Intruders seemed like the last concern when the city was in chaos and everyone’s lives had turned upside down. In fact, the whole area within the base was barren. But Ray saw buildings where people could conceivably be.

Brad was still and watching, and Ray knew he could stay that way for hours, but Ray didn’t see much for him to work with and he didn’t think that was going to change. 

“So, I guess we go in?” he asked. Because he really didn’t love the idea of being shot after going through all the bullshit to get here. He didn’t like the idea of staying out either.

Brad’s mouth tightened and he looked down at Ray. “Carefully. Like fucking ninjas.” Ray nodded and turned to face the gate again, but Brad put a hand out to stop him.

When Ray turned to ask what was up, he swallowed the words and followed Brad’s gaze.

There was a flicker of movement, just someone walking between buildings, carrying a box. But it was a person, and Ray hadn’t seen one of those in weeks.

A few seconds later, there were more people moving around the buildings. There weren’t many, Ray thought he saw maybe six distinct figures, and they hadn’t seen him and Brad yet.

“What do you think?” Brad asked. His eyes were fixed on the people and his tone was tightly controlled. Ray bit his lip.

“This is what we’ve been aiming for, right? We should go in. Do you remember the secret Marine handshake?” he asked quietly.

“Okay,” Brad breathed, but he didn’t move.

Instead he pulled his eyes away from the base and reached out to Ray. His hand landed on the sleeve of his torn-up, wasted shirt and Ray turned with him.

“We made it,” Brad said and followed it up with an amazed smile that lit fireworks in Ray’s nervous system. Then he ducked in and Ray tipped his face up to meet him.

The kiss was relief mixed with urgency and Ray immediately grabbed Brad’s equally awful shirt to pull them closer together. That Brad let him was enough proof he felt the same thing. And thank God because Ray didn’t think he’d be able to stop himself from doing this anymore.

Brad’s hands tightened on his shoulder and where he was cradling the back of Ray’s neck, though they were still gentle, and then he pulled away with a crooked smile on his face. The sight made Ray’s chest rise.

“Let’s fucking go, homes,” he said, more excited to get into a military base than he’d ever been.  

They didn’t have any resistance getting in, and even less so when one of the people recognized Brad’s name.

After a short briefing, the Marines at the base gave them a short tour of how the place had been set up for shelter. Apparently other survivors had trickled into the base, and when it was clear the government wouldn’t be helping any time soon, they took it upon themselves to provide. 

It was heartwarming, in a way. Ray hadn’t realized how worried he’d been that he and Brad were the only ones alive.

At some point during the walk around Ray found his hand in Brad’s. He looked up, saw Brad looking back, and realized it might not be them against the world anymore, but it was always going to be them. There was that same indecipherable look in Brad’s eyes, but Ray thought he was catching on.

The people at the base did want to try establishing connections with the rest of the country, and so far, none of their electronics or radios were working to do it. They also wanted to send patrols out into the ruin and scout for a way out.

Brad and Ray glanced at each other.

Life after the apocalypse was looking up.


End file.
